


Just human

by Fleur_de_Violette



Series: Whumptober (more like hurt/comfortober-november-december) 2020 [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Broken Bones, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Burns, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Gen, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Lost - Freeform, Protective Bruce Wayne, Wally is in there for 5 seconds, Whumptober 2020, field medicine, space, spaceship accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:33:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27226597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fleur_de_Violette/pseuds/Fleur_de_Violette
Summary: It’s at moments like that, on a mission in space with Nightwing, when he realizes they can’t dodge the missile coming toward them, that Bruce realizes how desperately human they are. How fragile.Whumptober day 20 – Lost, field medicine.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Series: Whumptober (more like hurt/comfortober-november-december) 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984960
Comments: 12
Kudos: 140





	Just human

**Author's Note:**

> So. Dick Grayson is fun to hurt and nice to comfort. And I love fun and nice. So he’s probably gonna get hurt a lot in this series, because I’m not original. I’m sorry about that (and I’m also not). Hope you enjoy the story !

Batman wasn’t even supposed to be with Nightwing on this mission. This is ridiculous. They’re just regular humans. His best friend is an alien, his children regularly hang out with superhuman and yet, this is when Bruce realizes his own humanity. 

In a jointed mission between the league and the Titans, in his spaceship, with his oldest son by his size, as he realizes he’s not going to be able to dodge the missile coming toward them, he is reminded of how _human_ they are. 

If it were one of the action movies his children seem to affectionate, the next few seconds would be in slow motion. In reality, everything happens very quickly. The ship moves, rocks, burns. They hold on to it, because they don’t have any choice, and after what seems like an eternity of flames and movement, everything falls silent. 

He exchanges a glance with Nightwing, both of them thinking the same thing. 

The ship held on. They didn’t get ejected, they’re not two bodies to be found in the infinity of space. They’re not dead. 

But it’s way too early to rejoice. They’re not dead, _yet_. Their engines are down. They’re drifting. 

The map and radar hadn’t survived the collision either, so there is no way to know where they are. But given the fact that they can’t see the fight from the windows (which, thankfully survived), they’re pretty far away. Which is good because the hostiles can’t get them anymore, and bad because neither can their allies. 

Batman punches the SOS button. He doesn’t know if it still works, but he has to try. Nightwing stands up, removing his belt.

“I’m going into the engine, see what I can fix.” 

Batman shakes his head. 

“It's not accessible from the inside.” There is nothing to do besides waiting until they’re attracted by the gravity of a nearby planet, pray it’s a planet and not a star or a black hole that attracts them, pray that they manage to crash land on it, pray that it’s habitable, and wait for rescue. 

“It is if you’re flexible enough. You can yell at me later.” Says Nightwing before disappearing in the back of the ship, moving a piece of equipment to slide into a hole Bruce didn’t think any human sized creature, let alone an adult, could fit in. Bruce definitely can’t. 

“Tell me if you need help.” 

He gets a grunt as an answer. Nightwing spent too much time around him, apparently. 

They stay like this for a while, and Batman feels more than useless. Now that there is nothing to do but wait, the adrenaline from the first impact is wearing off. 

Only to come back as he feels the familiar pull of gravity. The good news is it’s a planet they’re attracted to. The other good news is there are trees on this planet, huge enough that Batman can see them from outer space, so it’s probably habitable. The bad news is that it’s far too huge, the gravity too strong. They’re approaching too fast. 

“Nightwing, get out of there!” He orders, because this will be a huge impact, and they’ll be lucky if they survive it in the cockpit. 

“Almost done!” Is the reply he gets and why can’t any of his sidekicks follow his orders? 

“Get out!” He repeats, but, if he gets a reply, he can’t hear it. 

They’re entering the atmosphere, the ship burning noisily, and yet, somehow, it holds. They’re inside a burning trash can flying at super speed toward the trees, but they’re still alive. 

And above the sound of the flames, of the ship dying on them, he can hear a cry of victory.

“Got it!” 

Bruce tries to right the ship, and, miraculously, it works. Whatever Nightwing did inside the engines apparently worked, because he can readjust the trajectory so that they’re not picking toward the planet. Now, he might be able to at least land properly. On the side of his vision, he sees Nightwing extracting himself from where he was, a smile on his face. For a second, he believes they’re in the clear, that everything will turn out all right. 

Of course, that’s when they hit a tree. 

The ship yells, actually yells, as it breaks into two pieces. Nightwing looks at him, their eyes meeting for less than a second of pure horror as Batman realizes that he’s in the part of the ship that keeps going, that is landing, and his partner, his former sidekick, his _son_ is in the one that stops its travel there. Abruptly. And there is nothing he can do about it. He watches, powerless, as his eldest is projected between the branches.

The ship crashes. His ears are ringing from the impact, but he knows he doesn’t have much time. He extracts himself from the burning ship, not caring how much his head spins. If the air in unbreathable, they’re as good as dead anyway. 

He retraces his way into the wreck of the ship, each flaming piece and torn branch making his heart ache. He doesn’t have time to be sentimental. He needs to find Nightwing, assess the damage and find a plan to get them both to safety. He refuses to think of any other possibilities. 

Finally, after what seems to be a small eternity, he spots something black and blue moving on the ground, next to a piece of ship on fire. 

No. This isn’t the ship that is on fire. It’s Nightwing. He’s rolling himself in the dirt in hopes to stop it. 

Batman starts to run. 

When he gets to Nightwing, his partner had almost managed to stop the fire, and he just has to smother the last of it. He let out a breath when he sees that the suit it still intact. It contained the worst of the fire. 

“Nightwing, are you with me?” 

The white lenses of the mask blinks at him, and he considers removing it and his cowl before deciding against it. There is a considerable amount of ashes and unknown pollens in the air. The last thing they need is to be blinded by it. The lenses are protecting their eyes. Besides, it is important that they stay Nightwing and Batman right now, instead of Dick and Bruce. Partners and not father and son. 

Nightwing pats his shoulder with his left arm. 

“I’m with you, yeah.” 

“Status.” Batman barks, doing his own assessment. While the suit prevented the worse of the burns, there was nothing it could do for the exposed parts, and a disgusting mix of dirt and flesh is on Nightwing’s neck. It will probably scar, and Batman think distractively that he’s grateful the burn hadn’t reached his partner’s face. There is a cut on his forehead, his dark hairs bloody. Batman might not agree with the Red Hood on a lot of things, but Jason does have a point. From now on, everyone is wearing a helmet. 

“I didn’t black out at all, and I’m not confused, so I probably don’t have a concussion.” Answers Nightwing to the question Batman didn’t ask. “My right arm is possibly broken.” And given how it’s twisted the wrong way, it’s less ‘possibly’ and more ‘certainly’. “The suit protected me from the worse of the burns, apart from my neck, but it’s still painful, so that’s a good thing.” Batman nods. Despite the fact that he wishes his partner the less pain possible, the fact that he still has feelings over the burn means the fire didn’t attack too deeply into his tissues. 

Nightwing breathes. Closes his eyes. 

“And there is something in my left leg.” 

Batman looks at the limb. Sure enough, there is something in it. A branch. It doesn’t go all the way through, but he can guess the wound is deep enough. Nightwing looks at him hesitantly. 

“Should we remove it?” 

Batman takes a breath. He needs to stay calm collected, and to make a decision quickly. He needs to be Batman, the leader of the JLA. He doesn’t have time to be Bruce, to be a father. 

“No. There is no way to remove it safely, and it’s probably stopping the bleeding.”

Nightwing bites his lower lip but nods.

There is not much to do about the injuries, all their medkits lost when the ship went down in flames, so he cuts into his cape to secure the piece of wood in his partner’s leg and to hold his arm in place. The sun is high, and, apparently, this specific planet is hot, even from the shadow of the trees. Soon, they’re both sweating. 

“Can you walk?” Ask Batman. “We need to find water.” 

He gets a tired smile as an answer. 

“Do I have a choice?” 

He smiles back. Position himself beside Nightwing, supporting him and stands. Nightwing cries out but he holds into him, and soon they’re upright and walking. Batman could say he’s never been so proud, but that would be a lie. He’s always proud of Nightwing, of Dick. And he’s planning on keeping it that way. They’re gonna find water, and the JLA or the Titans are gonna find them.

They walk for a long time in silence. There is no way to tell how much time has passed, the sun rotation being different from the one on earth, but Batman knows they’ve been walking for a while. The weight of Nightwing is increasing on his shoulders, and with it, his worries. Finally, he snaps. 

“I told you to get out of the engine.” 

There is a snort next to him. 

“Well, thank you for fixing the engine, Nightwing. We would probably have crashed right into the ground and exploded there if you didn’t.” Mocks his partner. Batman grunts. He knows Nightwing is right, but he doesn’t want to admit it. They keep walking. 

After a while, flies start to gather around them. It means there is fauna on this planet. It also means Nightwing’s wounds are starting to rot. 

From the harsh breathing next to him and the heat coming from his partner’s body, Batman knows the wounds are infected. The need to find water is only more urgent. After that… After that he doesn’t know. Nightwing needs real medical attention, and he needs it now. Not whatever field medicine he can provide on an unknown planet. 

The sun is going down. It’s hard to tell, but from his state of thirst and hunger, Batman would say they walked a little more than an earth day. The sun was high when they crashed, it means the night will be around two earth days long. There is no way to tell what is awaiting them. The day was hot, but the night might be cold. He doesn’t know what kind of nocturnal fauna is native to this planet. He’s practically carrying all of Nightwing’s weight now, his one worded answer the only sign his partner is still awake. 

The realization that, one way or another, Dick won’t see the sun rise on this planet washes over him. 

They need to find water. 

“Wait, stop…” 

The weak voice next to him gets him out of his dark thoughts. As usual, even weakened, Dick is his light. But he has to be Batman, and he has to be firm.

“We don’t have time to stop.” 

They don’t really have a choice because Nightwing falls to the ground, vomiting whatever is left into his stomach. Batman pats his back, pushing back the image of a ten-year-old Dick, sick with the stomach flu and in need of comfort far away. He can’t do that right now. He can’t be Bruce. 

“We need to keep going.” He says instead of comforting words. 

A hand pushes into him. 

“You…go. I stay here. You’ll be faster.” 

Batman sigh. 

“You know I can’t do that. I’m not leaving you here.” 

“Bruce. Bruce.” Nightwing removes his mask and bright, fever ridden, blues eyes are looking at him. “We need to be realistic. Please. Look at the odds.” 

And Bruce. Bruce doesn’t want to look at the odds. He doesn’t want to be realistic. He doesn’t want to be Batman. So, he removes the cowl. He becomes the one he should have been from the moment they crashed. He sits with his back to a tree and put his partner, no, his son’s head on his lap. 

He starts moving his hands in the black curls, careful of the head injury. 

“You should go find some water.” He hears from a small voice. 

“I’m not leaving you.” He says, lower than a murmur. 

There is something that sounds like a sob under him. He closes his eyes. 

“Everything I did, I did on my own accord.” He hears after a while. 

He startles a little at the admission, but Dick continues. 

“I need you to know. Everything I did, I did on my own accord. So, whatever happens, none of it is your fault. Do you understand that?” 

When he doesn’t answer, his son repeats. 

“Do you understand that?”

Bruce takes a breath, water he can’t afford to lose dropping from his eyes.

“I understand. And I need you to know. Everything you did, everything you are. I never stopped being proud of you, since the first day. You’re important. You’re so important to me, to so many people. So, you’re gonna hold on, okay? Until help arrives.” 

There is a snort. 

“You’re so bossy.” And after a while. “Don’t shut down. Talk to Alfred, to Selina, to Clark. Hell, talk to Canary if you have to.” 

“There will be nothing to talk about. Help is gonna be here any second now.” There is no way to know that and they both know it. The night has fallen, this planet has no moon so they’re in almost complete darkness. Bruce can’t see Dick’s eyes, but he hears the pleading in his voice. 

“Bruce. Please.” 

And then there is silence.

And he waits.

Bruce almost miss the light. The only reason he sees it is because he’s looking at the sky. But he knows this pattern of lights. He designed this pattern of light. There is a league ship above them. 

“Hey, do you see that?” 

No answer. 

“Dick?” He shakes his son. “Dick!” 

Still nothing. Panic falls on him like a cold shower. He starts yelling. 

“Kal-El! Help!” 

How far can a person with super hearing hear over the sound of a forest? Does the league have an approximate idea of their position or are they just scanning the whole planet (worse, the whole area)? 

He screams himself raw, once again losing the notion of time. All he knows is that Superman isn’t there, and that Dick is still breathing, still fighting for his fragile life. And that’s enough.

“Clark, please.” 

He’s begging by the time the shape of his best friend appears in front of him. Clark looks at him with the Superman gaze, the one that tells victims everything is gonna be all right and Bruce hates it. He’s not a helpless citizen (except, he kinda is) and they’re not out of the woods yet. Both figuratively and literally. 

Superman assess the situation quickly, bending down to retrieve Dick. For a second, Bruce has a hard time letting go. 

“I’m getting him to medical, then I’m coming back for you. Don’t move.” 

Bruce has a thousand things to say. Instead he just grunts.

“Just go.” 

And then he’s alone, on his hands and knees, looking at the figure of his best friend and his son flying away long after they disappear into the night.

He’s definitely losing time, because he doesn’t even realize Clark is back until he feels a light shake on his shoulder. 

“Are you okay to fly?” Asks the kryptonian. 

Bruce huffs. 

“Do I have a choice?” he replies, mirroring his son’s answer from what seems like a lifetime ago.

Clark bends down, picks him up, and soon, they’re in the sky. Bruce closes his eyes against the nausea. It’s always there, the human body not made to be so high in the air, but it’s made worse by the dehydration, the exhaustion, the worry. 

Before he realizes it, he’s in one of the cots of the medbay in the league main ship. Dick is nowhere to be seen, and, realistically, he knows his son is currently receiving care, but some part of him can’t really calm down. Clark is gone, too, but there is a young woman in a blue coat next to him. 

She's a Titan, he remembers. One of Dick’s friends. Raven. He doesn’t know much about her. She’s the quiet type. Her powers include telekinesis, empathy and healing, among other things. She’s the daughter of the self proclaimed worst evil in the world, but Bruce learned not to judge people based on their lineage. That and, he almost lost another member of his family. Again. There is no worse than that. 

“He won’t be out for a long time.” She says, voice flat. “You should sleep.” 

Bruce shakes his head. His cowl his still down, he remembers absently. 

“I can’t.” He mumbles.

She raises a hand, hesitantly. 

“Do you want me to help you? I can take the anxiety away.” 

He looks anywhere but to her. Healing magic, he remembers.

“Shouldn’t you be helping him?” he asks. She shrugs. 

“I already did everything I could. He’s my friend. He would want me to help you. So here I am.” She says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and Bruce is reminded of how many different people Dick attracts around him. 

He sighs. 

“Do whatever you want.” 

Her hand is near his head, warm darkness enveloping him, and everything is quiet and safe. 

“Sleep.” Says a voice, and he does. 

* * *

“Hey, he’s waking up.” 

Bruce grumbles at the sound of the voice. He would like to sleep more. He should tell Alfred not to let people in his room while he’s sleeping. 

“B?” says another voice, and this one he knows. This one fills him with urgency as he remembers the events of the previous day. Or was it a few days? 

“Dick!” 

He sits up in his bed, blinks, and sure enough, his oldest son is next to him, popped up in a bed similar to his, looking tired beyond reason, with pretty extensive bandaging on his head and neck, a white cast in one arm and an IV in the other, machinery and wires coming all over from under the sheets he’s in, but alive. Oh, so very much alive. Next to him is Wallace West, but Bruce doesn’t have the energy to consider him right now. Right now, his sole concern is Dick.

“Hey, calm down. We’re in the watchtower. Everyone is fine.” 

Bruce breathes. Takes a second to let the situation sink in. They’re safe. It’s over. 

“Did you wake up before me?” 

Dick makes an apologetic face. 

“Yeah, seems like Rae overdid it when she made you sleep, but you probably needed it, so don’t complain. We put you with me ‘cause you were gonna freak out if we weren’t together.”

At the look Wallace sent his best friend, Bruce can guess Dick is the one who freaked out when they woke up separately, but doesn’t say anything. The speedster must sense the emotion in the air, because he heads to the door way too fast for it to be natural, even for him. Excusing himself.

Bruce let some time pass. He still doesn’t realize that it’s really over.

“How are you?” he finally asks. Dick smiles. 

“I’m okay. Sore. Tired. Kinda floaty. But I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“You’re alive.” Agree Bruce, and just like that, something loosens inside him. Dick doesn’t really look at Bruce when he talks next, but that might be due to the fact that his neck is still too stiff for him to turn his head entirely rather than a refusal to cross his mentor’s eyes. 

“You were right. Help did come. I was being dramatic.” 

Bruce snorts at that. When he talks next, he’s surprised by the softness of his voice. 

"And you were right. We probably both would have crashed if you hadn’t fixed the engine. Thank you.” 

Dick seems more surprised than Bruce is comfortable with at the admission. He wants to say more. About how what he said about being proud wasn’t a heat of the moment thing. About how, even if his son makes his own choice, he’ll never stop being responsible for him: that’s how parenting works. But Dick is blinking slowly, and he decides that maybe these conversations can wait until his eldest is able to follow them entirely. 

“You should go to sleep.” He says instead. “I’m pretty sure your Titans’ friends will want to see you as soon as possible.” 

Dick mumbles something and closes his eyes. Bruce stays there a long time, just listening to his son’s regular breathing. Of this so fragile, so precious human life. 

* * *

A week later, he opens the door of the manor to a civilian Clark Kent. As usual people are gonna talk. As usual, he’ll let them talk. At this point, he’s almost impatient to find out what the papers will invent. Almost. 

Before he can say anything to his friend, Dick’s voice comes from the living room. 

“Maybe try to jump over these? With the horse.”

“They’re playing a video game.” He feels obligated to explain, as if Clark would believe there was actually a horse in his living room. He’s glad Damian hadn’t had that fantasy yet. The reporter just laughs. 

“How is he?” 

“He’s…” Stir crazy. Still too weak for Bruce’s liking. “… fine. Well, getting there.”

Clark put a hand on his shoulder. 

“And, how are you?” 

Nightmare ridden. Not ready to let any of his kids in space anytime soon. “Pretty much the same.” 

Clark sigh. 

“Okay then. You know my number if you need me.” He lowers his voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner.” 

Bruce shakes his head. 

“We all made our own decision. He knew the risks. And so did I.” 

And doesn’t he hate it? Doesn’t he wish he has someone to blame? But he can’t. They’re humans. They can’t forget it. 

Clark doesn’t seem satisfied, but he nods and enters the living room. After a while, Bruce follows him. 

“…you know, since last time I missed all the fun.” He hears Dick says to Clark as he enters. The kryptonian smiles.

“Sure, we can go flying later in the afternoon, if Alfred thinks you’re up to it.” 

Dick’s face lights up, looking like he’s ten and just discovered the brand-new trapeze setup of the cave. 

Bruce smiles in return. 

They’re fine. 

Getting there.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked the story! I had a lot of fun writing it. There might be some astronomy inaccuracies (like if the planet they’re on is bigger than earth and has more gravity with the same atmosphere it should have a higher atmospheric pressure too and they couldn’t survive on it but… fictional planet is fictional. Also, I’m sure the medical inaccuracies are waaay worse than that).   
> This fic will have a side story (for “magical healing”) soon !   
> Have a nice day!


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